Lessons of the past

Their teacher for 'interslut relations' was another new face. A young woman who looked barely a few years older than themselves, yet whose round and swollen belly told of a new life sprouting forth in fairly short order. 'Miss Daisy', who admitted to still being weirded out when people addressed her by just her last name, got the elephant out of the room quickly.

"Yes, if you want to come feel it kick… go right ahead."

Home kids, as a general rule, didn't get much interaction with expecting mothers or mothers at all, really. Unless they happened to share a block with some breeders-in-training. There was an unwritten undercurrent of absence wherein none of them could really remember their own parent's touch. Whisked away as they were into the grand system of shared matrons and the algorithm's guiding hand, while she presumably went straight back to the task of earning their next sibling. So the collection of short-skirted human sextoys gathered around this small miracle in abject fascination. Resting their heads upon the teacher's round belly and listening for the faint heartbeat of another small soul, fated to join their ranks.

"It's father is one of your seniors." She revealed, encouragingly. "Every year, on a special day, the graduating class all gets a chance to plant their seed in me… provided they've got the right equipment of course." She smiled and chuckled warmly at her own humour… and the intrigued surprise on the faces of her new charges. None of whom had ever really considered 'fatherhood' as being found anywhere in their futures, for various reasons. Well, besides Jesse, if Betsy's plan had worked.

The young educator went on to explain. "Not too long ago, I was just another student here, like all of you. I had a sponsor who had put me forward to be a surprise 18th birthday present for his son, as soon as I graduated. I was doing my best to learn how I could be the perfect slutwife for him. Went to sleep everyday dreaming of how I would one day jump out of a birthday cake and see the joy and excitement on my new master's face. I imagined a thousand different ways he might look and a million different ways he might treat me, as his own personal toy for life. I was ready for any of it: cruelty, perversion, domination or devotion… any fetish he might have or want to try on me. I was determined to earn my place by his side... or at his feet."

There was a flicker in Miss Daisy's eyes, even then. Which spoke to all the submissive listeners of her sense of duty and purpose in that life which clearly never came to pass. Each of them, even those that still held lingering doubts and hopes for a freer life… knew the lure of simplicity in servitude that she must have held onto for so long. Amongst all of life's complications, the idea that your only true aim was to make one person happy… was an attractive one, whatever the expense to yourself. Which made the next part of her story hit home hard against their hearts.

"Only… it turned out I had a rare genetic complication that even the algorithm hadn't been able to detect. A small mutation that it had never encountered before, which just happened to make all it's normal contraceptive measures unreliable. Halfway through my second year… I started getting morning sickness. Then my belly started to swell. By the time the teachers realised what was happening, it was too late. My body had slipped out of range of what the customer wanted and the more invasive methods of contraception that could still have been used were 'besides the point' according to him. He had paid for perfect… and I was not. He was offered one of my classmates instead… I watched her be dragged off by him the following year."

She couldn't hide the sadness in her voice as she relayed all this. The past traumas clearly still raw, whatever had come next. Yet, their newest educator kept going… as if knowing that they all felt what she had felt, and believing that that was an important part of her lesson to them.